


Reliability

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Begging, Choking, Feels and Tragedy, Gen, Non-Consensual Violence, Post Episode: s01e16 Operation Breakdown, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-24 02:28:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1588313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Breakdown returns to the <em>Nemesis<em> after being freed from MECH and grieves the loss of his optic, with good reason. When a confrontation with his best friend Knockout goes in a swiftly downward spiral, however, Breakdown wonders if he's been blinded in more ways than one.</em></em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Reliability

**Author's Note:**

> Just FYI, when Knockout mentions Breakdown's age, a vorn is 83 years, which means that if he was "seven vorns", he was only 581 years old at the time.

Breakdown looked up sadly when he heard three taps on the door of his quarters. Growling to clear away the lump in his throat, he barked, “Who is it? What do you want?!”

“You know perfectly well who it is. I wanna make sure you’re okay,” replied a familiar voice.

Breakdown sighed deeply. “Fine. Come in.”

Breakdown watched Knockout enter warily, visibly keeping his body loose in case he needed to dodge something Breakdown might throw at him. The only way he kept from doing so was by clenching his large hands firmly in his lap. Knockout approached, decided to trust his self-control, and craned his head up to look him over.

“So...” Knockout mused, “From what I can tell, you seem...intact.”

“Really?” Breakdown snapped, leaning down so their faces were only inches apart. “I couldn’t see that when I looked in the mirror! Maybe it’s because I’m not a doctor—or maybe because I’m _missing an optic!_ Do you think that counts as ‘intact’, doctor?! Or are you so focused on being right that you don’t care—”

“Breakdown,” Knockout sighed, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I care.”

Breakdown scoffed. “Megatron sure doesn’t. What use is a warrior with a blind spot? I probably won’t even be here in the morning; I’ll be in a scrap yard on some distant planet because our Lord and Master thinks I’m not worth keeping around!”

“I can replace your optic,” Knockout cut in firmly.

“No, you can’t!” Breakdown shouted. “I already asked Megatron if he’d give his permission and he said no!”

“Then we’ll do it without his permission.”

Breakdown shook his head. “That’ll get us _both_ killed. There are no other options.”

Knockout paced agitatedly back and forth. “Well, I’m not going to let you get scrapped and I’m not going to let you walk around with wires hanging out of your face.”

“Even if somehow I survive these next few days, I’m probably going to be sentenced to computer work!”

“No, Megatron won’t make that mistake again.” Knockout barked a short laugh. “Remember when that one sphere wasn’t working on the control panel and you smashed the whole thing? Boy, that was a long time ago...How old were you, seven vorns?”

“Yeah, I remember.” Breakdown stood, gripped Knockout’s shoulder, and began steering him toward the door. “You can reminisce for a while if you want, but I’ll walk you out. I’m going to talk to Soundwave and see if he has any suggestions on how to avoid my almost certain death.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Knockout protested, struggling fruitlessly against his heavy hand. “Nobody said I didn’t have any suggestions! I can make an eye-patch for you.”

“So I could look like a space pirate? No thanks,” Breakdown muttered.

“Like you said before,” Knockout insisted, “there are no other options. C’mon, Break, let me help you.”

“An eye-patch isn’t going to help my blind spot,” Breakdown snapped. “In fact, it’ll probably only make it worse.”

Knockout grinned broadly and nudged him as they exited his room. “Try to think for a moment, then. What loyal, helpful, and _very_ sacrificial doctor could watch his patient’s back and make sure he doesn’t lose the other optic?”

Breakdown narrowed said optic. “You mean make sure I don’t get taken out again? Is that what you think, that suddenly I’m not capable of taking care of myself?”

“Nope. That’s what _you’re_ thinking,” Knockout replied simply, his smile fading. “You’re trying reverse-psychology because you want my help. You’re practically begging for it.”

Breakdown found himself lunging, slamming Knockout against the wall of the corridor by the neck. His friend’s hands clamped around his wrist, trying to pull him off, but Breakdown was relentless.

“I don’t rely on you! I may have in the past, but it’s a mistake I won’t make again!”

“Really,” Knockout wheezed. “Then get ready for the scrap yard.”

Breakdown growled, tightening his grip for a moment and making Knockout squeak. “I should take off your head right here. What would that do for your paintjob?”

“What would that do for the hole in your f-face...?” Knockout whispered, his fingers scrabbling against Breakdown’s forearm. “Why...why do you think you made the ‘mistake’ of relying on me in the past, eh? Because I’m reliable.” His vocalizer coughed. “You t-told me once that I was the only person you could rely on. You’re only...half-blind now. Have you already lost sight of that?”

Breakdown paused, considering this. When he looked down again, Knockout’s optics were dark and blank, signaling forced stasis. Breakdown dropped him in alarm and he slid limply sideways, hitting the floor with a bang.

“Knockout, I’m sorry!” Breakdown gasped. “I didn’t mean—”

Leisurely applause echoed down the hall to his right and Breakdown had to fully turn in order to see Megatron, baring his fangs in a sneer.

“Well done, Breakdown,” he laughed coldly. “I’m glad to see you’re still in action.”

Breakdown stared at him, his jaw hanging open. “Was...was this a test?” he demanded, gesturing to the Con on the floor. “Did you send him for me to hurt?!”

“No, he came of his own accord, but you should still be thankful to him,” Megatron remarked casually. “He saved your life just now. Your prediction was accurate—if you hadn’t been able to do that, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

With a wordless bellow, Breakdown charged recklessly forward—straight into Megatron’s outstretched fist. He didn’t ricochet off, though that’s what he would have preferred. Instead he hung, kicking his feet as Megatron lifted him in the air by his fist, which currently was imbedded in his empty optic socket.

“The longer I hold you up,” Megatron informed him, “the wider this hole becomes. You can beg mercy for what you just tried to do, if you wish, or you can lose half your face as well as your comrade. There are always other doctors I can hire.”

“Mercy, Lord Megatron!” Breakdown cried, clawing at Megatron’s arm much as Knockout had to his. “Forgive me, _please_!”

Megatron’s crimson optics narrowed with barely suppressed laughter. “That’s what I like to hear.”

Breakdown clutched a hand to the gaping hollow in his face as soon as he landed on the ground. He stayed that way, panting, long after Megatron had gone, startling as someone put a hand on his shoulder.

“...Breakdown.” Knockout’s voice was a low, sputtering whine. “Are you alright?”

Breakdown’s shaking fingers curled over the exposed wires. “Yeah,” he lied blatantly. “I’ll take that eye-patch now.”


End file.
